


I'm Not Human At All

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, M/M, Painful Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, bye, stick it in my ass, that metal arm really turns me on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:52:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1499056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before, when Bucky would kill it had been all about quickness, but he thought that if it ever came to Steve, he'd take his time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not Human At All

**Author's Note:**

> bucky needs a hug and maybe 70 years of therapy but a good fuck in the ass will do for now

Kissing Steve was unlike anything Bucky could ever remember doing. The heat of someone pressed flush against him was a pleasant shock, he didn't know anyone could be this close to him without trying to rip his throat out. Light fingertips explored his skin, roamed him in intimate places like he was being mapped, learned in new ways. And he was, all of this was so new it was overwhelming, but he liked it. He didn't want to look at his best friend and immediately calculate the easiest way to kill him, he wanted to remember this, Steve's hands on his skin and tongue in his mouth. 

Bucky closed his eyes, trying to bury himself and the animalistic want to push Steve off and put a hand on his throat in the sensation. His whole body was thrumming with it, the need to attack, to get away. He'd been cooped up in this apartment so long he felt like he was going crazy, driven mad by this beautiful human being that was so patient with him. He could remember Steve from back then and compare him to now, and not a damn thing had changed. He had wanted him so desperately then, and while that was still there, he was wired differently now. 

There wasn't too much detail he ever cared about going through, but he knew that what he was, this shell of a soldier from long ago, this was him now, and he was different. He was a tool in the hands of yet another government organization he didn't care anything about, a machine to be programmed and fixed accordingly. His arms stuttered on their pulling at the hem of Steve's shirt, clenching ever so slightly. He felt something a little like insecurity and tensed up, these emotions had always been accompanied by the sharp stinging of his brain being wiped for the next mission. He stilled, whole body stopping in it's feeble attempt at trying to be something else. 

Steve pulled back from his exploration of Bucky's mouth, eyebrows creased in worry, not a hint of frustration anywhere on his face.

"Bucky?" It was tentative, but demanded an answer, an explanation for what was wrong, because this was Steve, and Steve was a good person, the best person Bucky had ever known. His mind flashed with the image of Steve before the war, sickly and pale but honest and caring. Everything everyone should ever be. Everything Bucky was not. 

He focused on his breathing, eyes squeezing shut. The urge to attack was growing, every muscle in his body telling him to get up, put this man on the floor, take his life. Get up, find your target and strike. His artificial arm was now slowly starting to rip Steve's shirt where it had been pulling before, mechanical and powerful and coiled tight like a snake before it's prey. 

Steve repeated his name, louder than before, snapping him momentarily out of his reverie. 

He opened his eyes, and he hoped Steve could see right through him. They stared at each other, the intensity in his friends eyes making him shiver. Before, when Bucky would kill it had been all about quickness, but he thought that if it ever came to Steve, he'd take his time. He'd pull him apart slowly, intimately and make sure the man knew how much love was going into his work. He'd paint the world red with Steve Rogers. 

And through all this, these horrible gruesome revelations, he could see the understanding in Steve's eyes, could see the recognition and the tiniest hint of sadness there, but above all, the unrestrained love and adoration. He would paint the world red with Steve, knowing full well that Steve would let him if it's what Bucky really wanted. 

There was a new desperation when their mouths met again, tongue and lips and teeth colliding fervently. Hands racing over each others skin trying to get close enough to feel bone without actually damaging flesh. Steve was going at him with reckless abandon, and he could feel the strength in him. Because while Bucky was damaged, Steve had to be feeling some of this raw want too, the urge to tear apart and be torn. He had to feel the strength in his body, that was still new to Bucky but still familiar, pulsing with desire to do what it was created to do. 

Steve situated himself closer between Bucky's thighs, rolling his hard cock along the line of his friends. They rutted against each other roughly, but it wasn't enough. Bucky sat up and rolled Steve onto his back in one fluid motion, ripping his shirt off over his head as he lowered his mouth to Steve's neck. His tongue swept up and down the column of his throat, Steve groaning at the feel of the wetness on his skin. Bucky moved slowly, teasing and grinding into his friend. He gave only the slightest warning, a slight scrape on the flesh of Steve's throat, before full fledged sinking his teeth in to where the pulse beat the strongest. 

Steve whimpered slightly, the noise going straight to Bucky's dick, He pulled back, swiping his tongue over the purple mark that was already starting to heal. Steve flipped them again, a certain light ignited in his eyes that wasn't there before, a new challenging spark present in those blue irises. And if there was one thing Bucky could never forget about Steve, he could never resist a challenge. Even when he was small and scrawny, he never gave up. The hand working at his pants brought him to the surface, Steve swearing all the while because he was too impatient to deal with draw strings, so he decided ripping through them was the next best plan of action. 

The gray fabric didn't stand a chance against him, large hands leaving Bucky completely exposed, before the captain took his own shirt and pants off. That left both of them in their briefs, mouths back together, cocks aligned and moving against each other mercilessly. It was too much and not enough all at once, the friction leaving all Bucky's nerves burning, but he wanted more, he wanted to disintegrate completely under Steve's touch. They ripped through the last of each others modesty, until they were both completely naked, hard and leaking against one another. 

"Want you to fuck me," he murmured against the skin of Steve's neck, stopping him in his kneading against him. 

It was only a brief pause, but then Steve was up and moving, edging off the bed toward the table where there was probably a bottle of lube stashed in the drawer. Bucky grabbed his arm, the contrast of his metal plating against Steve's very real skin something of beauty. This grip on a normal person could have probably broken their bone, but this was Steve and he was anything but normal, he didn't even flinch. 

They kissed again, slower and more passionate. Their mouths moving and tasting each other, expressing everything they couldn't say through the way they moved together. 

"I want it to be you," Bucky whispered, "all you."  
Steve got it clear as day, tracing a finger around Bucky's lips before delicately pushing it inside his mouth. It was obscene and filthy and fucking hot. Once his finger was slicked with spit, he moved Bucky's legs apart a little more, effortlessly lifting the other man's hips to get better access to his hole. The first push inside had him groaning, hole clenching around the finger inside him, savoring the burn as Steve began to move. It wasn't enough, only a matter of minutes passing before Bucky was asking for another. 

This one fucking hurt, Steve's spit wasn't enough to properly stretch him without conflict, but this was how he wanted it. He wanted the pain and the realness, he wanted to be the one on the receiving end of the torment for once. It took longer this time for him to adjust, and when Steve curled his finger experimentally, he had Bucky arching off the bed, fists digging into the sheets. 

"Steve, please," he begged, and for a moment he didn't think he would get anything if the tiny frown tugging on Steve's lips was anything to go by.

But then Steve was moving back, taking his fingers out and slicking up his dick with as much spit as he could manage, spitting once on Bucky's hole for good measure, and then finally lining the head of his cock up with Bucky's entrance. 

He pushed in agonizingly slow, feeling how tight Bucky still was, clenching around him and panting fast. Bucky had known the two fingers weren't going to be enough, but he didn't care. He'd needed this the moment he'd seen his best friend again, that moment in the street filled with shattered glass when Steve was still a stranger. He'd needed it back when they were young and growing up in a society that shamed people like him. It was painful but good, he was full of Steve's cock, splitting in half beneath him. 

Steve was patient, although it must have been killing him to remain so still. He pushed Bucky's shaggy hair out of his face, smoothing the tiny lines of pain etched into his brows and around his mouth with his fingers. He pulled out slowly and winced at the pained hiss his friend gave beneath him, but he didn't stop and Bucky didn't want him to. They were shallow slow thrusts, tortuous but not enough. He didn't want Steve's gentleness, he didn't deserve it anyhow. Bucky wanted to be ruined, and he wanted Steve to do it. 

He started moving against Steve in earnest, wanting him to get the point. There was another frown, but Steve was always about putting others before himself and Bucky was always selfish. It hurt like hell, but the moment he hit that spot inside him, Bucky was seeing stars. 

"Fuck, fuck me Steve c'mon," he was practically whining it, but he didn't care. Now he was really being pounded into, Steve groaning at the way his cock looked moving in and out of his best friend. He was beautiful, and Bucky soaked it in, basking in the light that was Steve Rogers. 

They were fucking in earnest, sweating and panting and both so fucking close. Every thrust sent Steve's cock reeling into his prostate, having him practically wailing Steve's name. The pain was dull now but it was good, a good ache under everything to keep him grounded. He could tell Steve was just as close as he was by the way he closed his eyes and ducked his head, pressing his cheek into the part of his shoulder where flesh gave way to metal. Bucky could feel the ghost of lips along the seam, and it was too much, too intimate, and it had his cock shooting onto his stomach without the slightest touch.

Steve opened his eyes and saw the state of him, coming shortly after with a bitten back shout and stuttering hips. 

Bucky felt sore and empty when Steve pulled out, but he felt content. He'd thought he wanted Steve to take him apart, to destroy him for the horrible person he was, but that wasn't the case. Steve had been putting him together the whole time, right under his nose. And while this little escapade wasn't nearly enough, Bucky knew it was a step and he was willing to take however many more if it's what Steve wanted. 

They kissed lazily, a captain and a soldier, and for the first time since his awakening, Bucky felt hope.

**Author's Note:**

> support group for wanting a metal arm shoved up your ass [here](http://squid-ebooks.tumblr.com)
> 
> comments/ thoughts welcome!!


End file.
